


Gentleman Wooing Gentleman

by HiMiTSu



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3843469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiMiTSu/pseuds/HiMiTSu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a tumblr prompt: James!Lancelot asks Percival for advice on how to woo a guy he likes when the guy he likes is Percival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentleman Wooing Gentleman

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt [on tumblr](http://mysteryismyart.tumblr.com/post/117544418705/ooh-percilot-where-james-lancelot-asks-percival)  
> There is a translation to Russian. You can find it [here](http://verloreneskind.diary.ru/p203927230.htm?oam#more1)  
> A translation to Vietnamese could be found [here](https://snarahyuk.wordpress.com/2015/07/14/percilot-oneshot-trans-gentleman-wooing-gentleman/)

“Hey, Percy.”

  
“Please refrain from calling me that way, Lancelot.”

  
“Oh come on…” The rest of his words is drowned in gunfire and he winces at the loudness of it but refuses to put on the ear muffs for the sake of keeping his hairstyle pristine.

  
Percival doesn’t pause in his target practice, shooting one round after another until the target is all riddled with holes. And then he still shoots. It comes to a point when Lancelot is starting to suspect that the other agent is doing it just to spite him, or more likely to avoid having a conversation. Lancelot, however isn’t so easily deterred.

  
“Is there anything you wanted?” Percival asks when he cannot pretend anymore that his target doesn’t not remind a Swiss cheese, one that has more holes than cheese itself.

  
“And advice, actually.” Lancelot replies readily, taking a step closer and beaming at his colleague.

  
“On what?” The other prompts.

  
“On wooing someone.” Lancelot stretches the words, prolonging vowels to obscenity and slides up to Percival smoothly in one long move. He gets a confused glance for his troubles, so decides that an elaboration in necessary. “A gentleman to be precise. How to woo a gentleman.”

  
Percival’s brows knit into a frown over the dark frames of his glasses and the question he asks is not the one Lancelot expects, but one he enjoys nonetheless. “A certain gentleman?”

Lancelot fights a smirk and plays it as casual as he can, waving the question away and replying carelessly. “Maybe. That’s not the main concern at the moment.” He steps around Percival’s impressive frame to lean backwards on the table with ammunition. This way they can actually talk face to face and not Lancelot longingly staring at Percival’s profile as always. 

  
“That is not my concern at any moment.” 

  
The answer goes completely ignored, just like the most of those ridiculous ‘i-don’t-care-about-you’ comebacks. There is absolutely no way Percival is as uncaring towards Lancelot as he makes it seem – Lancelot believes in it with all his heart. The other agent will complain, roll his eyes, say ‘No’ outright at least three times but will relent to Lancelot’s will in the end nonetheless. He says as such, which leads to an eye roll, how predictable.

  
“Now let’s not go through the usual routine because this time I really need your help.”

  
“Usual routine?” Percival echoes with a frown, but Lancelot is already prowling on.

  
“So you are a real gentleman, many would say so, not that I am not saying so but you understand…I wanted to ask about more conventional wooing methods of modern society.”

  
“What? Who even talks like that..?”

  
“You know I am partial to old-fashioned turn of phrase, so no need to act so insulted. But that too is unimportant.” Lancelot grabs a gun from Percival’s hand, throwing it carelessly back on the table; a clip is empty and he knows none of the two of them is particularly fond of this weapon. “Wooing, Percy. Wooing.”

  
“Well you can start with properly saying the other man’s name.” Percival snaps in reply, hands empty of their burden clenching into fists.

  
A pause hangs in between, Lancelot’s wide eyes staring back at him in a mix of wonder and terror while Percival’s face floods with color while he hastens to amend his slip-up. “Not that I’m implying anything…that I am the one you…the one…” Awkward stumbling over words comes to an abrupt stop, followed by an embarrassed cough. “What I am trying to say, if you please stick to using my full name, then I’ll consider helping you.”

  
Lancelot squints at him for a moment too long before brightening. “Deal, my dear friend.” He punctuates the statement by tapping on a lapel of Percival’s jacket. The suit is surprisingly lacking pinstripes today, in simple dark blue, but still makes the man look dashing. Percival swats the other’s hand away and bids his time by straightening the jacket and demonstratively brushing the lapel with his fingers, getting rid of any imaginable dust.

  
“So what it is you exactly wish to know?”

  
Lancelot bothers his lower lip with his teeth, pondering the question, so many things are on his mind but he picks one and goes with it. “Well I already said I need an advice on courtship so let’s start with the basics?”

  
“Alright. What kind of person do you intend to court?”

  
“A gentleman.” Lancelot beams at his own exclamation. “A true gentleman who is a gentleman in his full gentlemanly fashion.”

  
Percival’s flat looks translates perfectly how unimpressed he is with the description.

  
“A gentleman.” Lancelot adds unnecessary with an empathic nod.

  
“Well then I suggest you can start with flowers?”

  
“You don’t sound very sure,” Lancelot observes. “But anyway, already tried that. Didn’t work.”

  
“He didn’t like them?”

  
A sigh as heavy as gravity itself heaves Lancelot’s chest before he replies. “I’m not sure. I think he didn’t even notice the gesture.”

  
“This tactic is a classic start but there is always a chance that the person in question simply does not like flowers. Then you can never go wrong with complements.”

  
Lancelot is shaking his head before the other could even finish his sentence. “Not working.”

  
“A more forward approach may bring better results then.”

  
“I don’t know if I can be even more forward. He is very oblivious to my advances.” The fondness in his voice in unmistakable, but it does not make Percival smile at how sweet that is, quite on the contrary.

  
“A date then.” Percival says, tone unexpectedly sharp. “That should be sufficient.”

  
“I guess it might work…” Lancelot trails away and looks at his colleague for more suggestions. But Percival is pushing himself away from the table, ready to go and leave the ammunition behind.

  
“Well then, my work here is done.” Percival is striding away before Lancelot can utter a word in protest, so he shouts in the other’s wake.

  
“Percival! Will you join me on my mission tomorrow?”

  
“Do you need my help?” 

  
“Your presence will be very welcome.”

  
Percival nods and turns back to the direction of the mansion. Lancelot counts it as a small win.

* * *

  
“That was fun!” Lancelot shouts as loud as his lungs allow it, throwing his hands in the air. He’s standing on a pile of ashes of a house he single-handedly completely destroyed, still high from the explosion and grinning like a maniac he is. His bright eyes find Percival’s and they share a moment of happiness over a successful operation. 

  
The other agent is carefully wiping soot from his glasses with a pocket handkerchief, but his gaze is fixed on a figure happily bouncing down the pile of dust to stand by his side.

  
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Lancelot repeats with a hopeful glint to his eyes.  
Percival relents with a smile. “I guess you can say that.”

  
Lancelot beams at him, radiant. “So the date was a success then?”

  
Percival’s smile melts as his whole expression transforms into one of shock, all unblinking eyes and opened mouth. Lancelot’s grin freezes in turn and he blinks numbly, suddenly unsure of this whole endeavor.

  
“A date?” It’s hard to tell by Percival’s tone what he is thinking and his features smoothed out after the initial shock so his face is a mask of impassiveness. 

  
A laugh, edging on hysterical tears his way out of Lancelot’s throat. He runs a hand through his hair, still perfect despite all the demolition he had been doing just minutes prior, and says with more resolution than he actually feels. “A date, yes. I thought that was obvious…”

  
“In what way?” Percival asks, incredulous.

  
“I asked you out, you know, right after you told me…”

  
“Oh my God!” Percival throws his hands on the air, completely bewildered. At least he is not angry and is not recoiling in disgust – that’s always a good sign. “You are the most ridiculous man on the planet.” He points at the other agent accusingly.

  
“Excuse me?”

  
“You,” a finger is shoved into his chest. “Let me think you were seriously interested in someone else! And then you just go and pull off something like that…” 

  
“I was sure I made myself perfectly clear.”

  
“At what time?”

  
“When I said I needed tips on wooing a gentleman.”

  
“So?”

  
“Well, you are the most gentleman-like of all.”

  
Percival opens his mouth for another retort but clamps in closed at Lancelot’s words; instead he admits sheepishly. “I thought you were talking about Galahad. Or Tristan.”

  
“No,” Lancelot scrunches his face. “Of course, no!”

  
“But you said you gave that person flowers.”

  
“Your birthday present.”

  
“A cactus?” It seems there is no end to this madness and Percival feels a headache starting; not the first one at the expense of this exasperating man, and definitely not the last.

  
“Well, we travel a lot,” Lancelot retorts sulkily. “I wanted to give you something that didn’t need constant attention. And, before you ask, I make you complements all the time.”

  
“You flatter me. There is a difference.”

  
“No, but-”

  
“You flatter me to get your way.”

  
“Well sometimes I do, but it doesn’t mean I’m insincere.”

  
They come to stand off at this point, staring each other down and neither ready to relent. It’s Lancelot who gives up first though, but only because he comes up with a better tactic. He steps closer to the other, his shoes crunching on the wooden wreckage, and says in a silky voice, moving even closer with every word. “I really do mean it when I say that you are very dashing. And charming. And handsome. And amazing. And sexy. And-”

  
“I think I get your point.”

  
“I don’t think you do.” Lancelot whispers into what is left of a space between them. His breath caresses Percival’s clean-shaven skin as he goes on. “I don’t think you understand how crazy I am about you.”

  
“I might have an idea.”

  
Lancelot presses a butterfly kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because you are the most wonderful man I have ever met. The most brilliant. The most gorgeous. The most-”

  
The rest of his words is swallowed by Percival lips, which finally find his in an insistent kiss.

  
“Only you can declare your undying passion on top of a burned building.” Percival laughs in between kisses.

  
“I happen to find the atmosphere very romantic.”

  
“Only you…”


End file.
